Come What May
by Elfin Empress
Summary: A Shadow who becomes a prisoner...The Haunted who dwells inside a waking dream...This is the tale of all that may be of a Prince of the Dunes and a Princess of the East. Co-authored by HystericFreak
1. Shadow

Disclaimer: The characters, objects, and places that pertain to _The Prince of Persia_ belong to Jordan Mechner and Ubisoft. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Note: Odd-numbered chapters are mostly from the Prince's point of view (written by Elfin Empress) while even-numbered chapters are mostly from Farah's point of view (written by HystericFreak).

I.

Ashes…

My life, like ashes, burned to the last essence of existence, flows freely from my hands. No matter how long I try to hold on, it will continue to seep through my fingers; my human flesh, a most unworthy treasury for it.

_ How far have I fallen? I can't seem to remember.._

I know that one day I must have been loved. But it must have been long ago.

Was it in this life? Or another?

No...no, I just can't seem to tell anymore.

I finger the stone platter, gazing around at the splendid tapestries and fine furnishings, and take in the rich incense flowing throughout the chamber. The incense burns bright. The art is shown beautifully. My eyes close as I gather memories of the notes of India, the sweet scent of ylang ylang. I try to recall if the tapestries in India were beautiful, if the stone was darker there and the marble more brilliant, but my recollection escapes me before I can even touch it. I reach out to touch the mural right in front of me, and it is solid. It is _real._ _I _am real. And somehow, I must find a way to endure my life.

Was it a year? Days become years, years become millennia when I am not with her. Time, once my greatest ally, has become to be my greatest enemy; its flow so cruel to my existence. It never pauses for a moment of mere human endearment.

"Dear brother, how I long to see a smile upon your young face. Does the entertainment not please you?" Shidoush asks me, watching the dancers intently.

I look towards the silhouettes weaving before me. The light breeze sends their gossamer pants billowing like the bells of jellyfish in the sea. Enveloped in the shadowy mist of their sheer black veils, they dance around one marble pillar to another. They have a dancer's spirit and a dancer's spirit is made of fire. This plainly, I could see...but could not feel.

"No, I am afraid it does not, my brother," I reply.

The incense burns. The ashes collect. A pile, black as night. Remains of what used to be -- a mere shadow.

My shadow.

I.

**_Come What May_** copyright © 2004 by _Elfin Empress & HystericFreak_

_This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission._


	2. Haunted

Disclaimer: The characters, objects, and places that pertain to _The Prince of Persia_ belong to Jordan Mechner and Ubisoft. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

II.

I'm haunted…every time I close my eyes he is there. _But why?_ He seems familiar and he feels so real. _Is he real?_ Is he from another time perhaps? A vision of what's to come? _No_, I _knew _him.

_ Who are you? Why do I feel so close to you?_

My footsteps echo through my empty chambers. I gaze out upon the lush expanse of jungle before me, the cold marble beneath my feet and hands. I'm surrounded by so much, yet I feel so empty, hollow. _What cruel game has befallen me?_ _Am I to spend my years longing to feel the touch of a man who I do not know?_

_ Am I fated to love a shadow?_

I look around my room: Every day of my life has been spent here, yet it seems so strange to me now. I feel like a lifetime passed since I last saw its walls, slept amid the flowing curtains. _Why do I feel so misplaced? Why does it feel like something is missing? _

_ "Please...please...forgive me....please..."_

The words echo through my mind like a memory from long ago. _Did I say those words? Or was it the man who lives in my dreams? _Once I knew – I know that much. Would he remember me and is he too haunted by memories of a time forgotten?

_ Is he even real? _

The sun begins to rise; it's golden rays warming my skin. With it comes the prospect of a new day. But this does not comfort me. I know that every day ends with night. And with night, the dreams come. He comes.

And I am haunted once more.

II.

**_ Come What May_** copyright © 2004 by _ElfinEmpress _&_ HystericFreak_

_This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission._


	3. Hunter

Disclaimer: The characters, objects, and places that pertain to _The Prince of Persia_ belong to Jordan Mechner and Ubisoft. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

III.

The scent of fear swathes low, draping heavily like a spider's nest. I should smell it...breathe it. It should sustain me, a dark rapture I pray not confess on. It stirs pass the shrubs, whispering to their leaves. I should hear their secrets. For I am the hunter.

I feel the rush of wind on my face and know it ought to be revitalising. I give my mare a kick and let my trousers billow through speeded space. The thrill of the chase should have caught my blood and I would want to let it bleed. Nothing should stop me. For I am the pursuer.

Stealth shrouds me in an opaque facade and perseverance cloaks me in acuity. I signal to Ardavan and he moves to the left. Then, I gesture to Shidoush for him to stay where he is. We are close now. Seconds pass and there is nothing but silence and cold blood. But I continue to wait. For am I am the tracker.

Then, like a sudden crackle of thunder in a clear sky, the creature decides to forsake its sanctuary and flee.

"Hurry!" I spew, "This way!"

My brothers follow my lead and block its path. We close in on it, like walls of a tomb. Then, when it is out in the clearing, exposed and vulnerable, I nock my arrow...It should cut through the distance like the fabled rug of Prince Ahmed...I should have it carried back to the palace as a prize...

"Brother, are we just going to sit on our hinds all day or are you going to loose your arrow on the fox?" Ardavan interposes my contemplations.

My gaze on the target becomes imperceptible. Like an artist who has lost his creative eye, the magic disperses and the painting becomes a blank canvas. I lower my bow and say not a word, for they already know what has come to pass.

It should all have been so easy.

For I am the hunter.

* * *

_There is a drop of water upon my skin. Then another. And yet another. Their coolness stirs my insides. They are slightly too large to be tears; she must have been at the pool just now. There is sudden warmth in the air and light plays on my closed eyelids: It is morning in the Sultan's harem. I feel her stroke my hair and I lie completely still, the marble floor cool beneath my skin, my head warm in her lap._

_She is as gentle as first fallen snow and as strong as tempered steel. My warrior...my princess. We have come a long way together and I mean not to lose her. As I lie on her lap and feel her feathered strokes upon my head, I dare not open my eyes and look upon her. Like the worry of an audience that the spell will be broken if they look at the magician, they avert their eyes -- I close mine._

_But then, my princess speaks..._

_"Don't leave me...my love...please don't leave me..."_

_With that, my eyes flicker open._

And the spell is broken.

For nights I have played these sequences through my mind. For days I have been lost in my thoughts. Never living or dying, but always longing. I long for there to be a silence...a calm I can call my own. I know at the present that I must search for it and that my journey should begin now.

"Ready my crew, Mehrvand. I shall sail from Abadan tomorrow."

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this, dear brother?" Shidoush enquires, his voice enfolded with affection I could no longer touch. I look into his dark eyes, seeking for recognition, but it is not there. I place my hands onto his shoulders. _How could I make him understand how hollow I have become? How would he see the emptiness inside me?_

"It is something I must do," I tell him simply.

"Why are you sailing?" Ardavan exclaims, frustration heavy in his tone.

I look at my two brothers standing so still and I begin to yearn to preserve this moment I have with them. But then, I recall our morning in the game garden and I realise it is no longer _my_ game. I know I must go. The sea is churning now. Its waves beckon for me. And I will be searching. _This_ will be my game. And so it all becomes clear to me. I turn to Ardavan with a resolute look in my eyes.

"I will be hunting."

III.

**_Come What May_** copyright © 2004 by _Elfin Empress_ & _HystericFreak_

_This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission._


	4. Waking Dream

Disclaimer: The characters, objects, and places that pertain to _The Prince of Persia_ belong to Jordan Mechner and Ubisoft. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

IV.

I am running. I can hear my pursuers behind me -- grunts of an inhuman nature and feet thumping upon the ground -- but I dare not look. If I do, they will catch me. All I know is that I must run. As I sharply turn a corner, I find myself in a circular room. Mirrors are scattered throughout, reflecting rays of light around the chamber. In the centre lies a great sword...Perhaps if I could get closer-

The snarls of my predators near, filling me with dread. As I dart through a crack in the wall, my surroundings slip from my consciousness. I can no longer see, hear, smell, or taste. I can only feel...fear. As I run, tears of anger stream down my face.

"What am I doing?" I scream into the night. How could I have treated him like that? Why did I do it? My pace slows as I realise I am no longer being chased. I slump against the cold wall, the tears now freely running down my face. "What have I done? I...I loved him and...I...used him..." I sink to the ground, the dagger and sword clattering by my side -- an empty victory that leaves me hollow.

You're a fool Farah. What would you achieve? You need him. Without him, you are nothing and with him, you may as well be. But he didn't deserve that. No one does. But you did it all the same. You're a thief, a whore and a liar, and you don't deserve redemption.

I look into the night sky, the stars distant above my head. "What do I do now?" You finish what you set out to do. So I run.

My eyes flutter open. The cold marble beneath me chills my skin. Where am I?

"My lady? My lady, are you all right?" a small voice I recognise well asks me.

"Yes, I'm fine Daya," I reply to my handmaiden.

As I attempt to rise from the stone slab, Daya reaches out to steady me.

"You did not move for a while, my lady. I began to fear the worst," said the young girl, her voice laced with genuine concern.

"I will be fine. I am...tired," I lied.

"Perhaps you should return to your room for-"

"No. I...I would rather walk around the gardens...for a while..."

To sleep, to dream...this means nothing to me now. My life has now become a haze. I am starting to forget where the dreams end and life begins. Do the dreams even end? What if I'm still asleep?

"Then I shall accompany you my lady."

IV.

**_ Come What May_** copyright © 2004 by _ElfinEmpress _&_ HystericFreak_

_This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission._


	5. Be It As It May

Disclaimer: The characters, objects, and places that pertain to _The Prince of Persia_ belong to Jordan Mechner and Ubisoft. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

V.

It is said that true happiness only belongs to a fool.

I look to the sky and sea. The azure and cerulean, they are a grandeur beyond anything I know. I see the blue from above and below envelope me and I feel at peace.

Am I a fool then?

We have been out at sea for about a fortnight and the mouth of the ocean approaches soon. We are but a small ship -- a speckle in the grandness of the waters of this world. I listen to the waters sway in their waltz, I feel the fingers of the wind upon my face, and I know it is here that I find my calm.

And so would he. Or so I thought.

He lives off world, his highness does. I watched him as we left land: At first, he seemed content at sea. But he thinks not like you or me. Something within his mind is at unrest; something within him is running without aim. So the mood passed through him like fickle rain, and he began to wander on the seams of his ship without purpose. I wonder what it is my master sees, how disillusioned his eyes have become and how exceptional his perception may be. Then, finally, like the setting of a sun, he retreated into the darkness -- he has been in his chambers for most of the journey.

Daybreak passes. The sunlight reaches my eyes and my mind filters what I see in its usual way. I hear the restlessness of the crew and I know that they are weary for their master. We have no choice but to wait patiently for our next command. My only sorrow is that I cannot attend to my master while he is confined within his chambers. I wonder how he fares. I imagine it to be quiet in his chamber. I hope it is the kind of quietness that would lull him to a dreamless sleep.

But it is not, for he comes up to deck.

He walks like a child who has just awakened from a shadowy dream: Awkwardly, slowly, and unsure of each step he takes. Like a hollow shell, his bare feet make no sound as he sets out for the railing and gazes out into the horizon. His once proud, straight back is bent, his bygone chestnut hair, now black, wavering like cracked, dry leaves in the wind. He is a lone figure from my view, still and lifeless -- this once regal Prince of Persia, a man who dwelt in marble halls, breathed in stiles of saffron, and dreamt of honour and glory.

A hollowed body. A broken spirit. _From what were you defending yourself from? What sorrow has befallen you?_

I brave myself and move closer. I see he is in deep concentration, but somehow it is...erratic. The expression on his face is one of forlorness.

"My lord," I attend to him, "is ev-"

"Shhhhh..." He hushes me. "Can you hear it, Mehrvand?"

I listen.

I hear nothing but the lapping of the waves.

"The ebbing of the sea is speaking," he states, faintly.

I wonder what it is he hears them saying, yet I dare not ask; I play the fool. I look into my master's eyes, which are now rimmed in a shadow. They are dark and carry no reflection of their own. And unlike the sea, I hear _them_ speak. They weave a tale of sorrow...a sorrow that was once a love.

At this revelation, I feel myself become tangible to the world I thought I knew and it is spinning faster than I ever realised it to.

-The sky breaks. A sudden drop of water touches my arm. I look up above and see all is grey: A storm comes this way.

"We are at the mouth of the ocean, my lord," one of the crew announces.

-The air begins to whisper. Its breath sends everything in one direction: A southwest wind blows.

"Tell them to stop here and abandon ship, Mehrvand. Take the tenders and go."

-The water quickly begins to fall densely. The light starts to dim.

"But my lord…"

"Tell them now, Mehrvand."

The sky is changing…

The world is turning…

And I find I must catch up with it.

* * *

I watch my master's ship decrease in size as we row away in our tenders. I reflect on the Prince I used to know. I wonder how he fares. And I imagine what will become of him and I realise I do not wish to know... 

Let me be but a fool.

And let all be as it may.

V.

**_Come What May_** copyright © 2004 by _Elfin Empress_ & _HystericFreak_

_This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission._


	6. Offering

Disclaimer: The characters, objects, and places that pertain to _The Prince of Persia_ belong to Jordan Mechner and Ubisoft. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

VI.

The lushness of the garden surrounds me. Birds call out to one another, their songs dancing in the air. The gentle scent of jasmine floats around me and the sunlight filters through the branches. But none of it feels real. The sharp colours are dulled, the noises muted somewhat. _Am I still dreaming?_

"My lady, quietness does not become of you. Would you like to speak of your mind's burdens?" Daya's soothing voice asks.

I sigh heavily. "My dear Daya, how long have you been with me?" The attentive girl pauses to think.

"My lady, I believe I entered your service ten years ago, after leaving Persia."

My heart stops. _Persia..._ Something arises from my memories, but like sand, as I try to grip it, it slides through my fingers.

"...Persia? You were from Persia? But, my father..."

"Yes my lady. I...I was taken from Persia, but I was nothing but a slave there. I am truly happy to be in your service my lady." Daya's voice trembles slightly at the mention of her homeland.

"I see... do you have family there?"

"No my lady. I was orphaned at a young age." She turns to face me. "Why do you ask my lady? Surely this does not interest you."

"Daya, I only wish to know you better. If you would prefer not to speak of this though, I would understand."

She smiles faintly. "I would prefer not to my lady. It...it is not easy to speak of my past."

I walk over to a bench, and beckon for her to join me. She comes and sits upon the marble, her simple blue ghagra waving gently in the warm breeze.

We sit there in silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts. After what seems like a lifetime, we are interrupted by one of my father's messengers.

"Honoured Princess Farah, I bring news from the most gracious Prince Arjun."

Prince Arjun? _Of course, how could I forget? The man I was "promised" to. But I still have two months before I must choose. Whatever could he want with me?_

"And what, pray tell, does the most _gracious_ Prince desire?" I ask, unable to hide the sarcasm from my voice.

The messenger looks slightly hurt but replies, "He has written a letter for you my lady, and has asked that only you read it." With that, the messenger hands me the letter and leaves.

I place the closed letter on the stone table before me and look at it angrily.

Then I feel Daya eyeing me with interest. "My lady, do you not wish to read it? Would you prefer me to do so?"

I sigh. _Perhaps I should hear what Arjun has to say._ "If you would be so kind." I hand Daya the ornate letter and she opens it slowly.

"It reads as such:

_My dear lady Farah,_

_ I apologise for not being able to speak with you in person, but my exploits have become more engaging than I presumed them to be. I will be returning from Colombo soon and I would be honoured if you would accompany me back to my palace in Bombay. I know this may be a bit presumptuous of me, yet I do feel that if I am to be chosen be you for marriage (and there have been many rumours that I currently stand the greatest chance), then I shall want to know you more._

_If you would accept my invitation, I shall arrive at Mangalore in my vessel by the week's end. The journey to my palace is not a short one, but the ship by which we will be traveling in will be well equipped to your needs. You may only bring one servant of your choice to accompany you as I have already undertaken the arrangement two-dozen handmaidens for your voyage. I am quite confident you will be pleased with my selection. Once you have decided, send for the messenger who brought you this letter and tell him your answer. Please do come, I would love to see you once again._

_Yours truly,_

_Arjun Mahajan_"

Daya looks at me expectantly. "My lady, will you go? T'would be a mighty shame if you did not."

I look critically at the young handmaiden. A faint smile plays around her lips.

"Do you wish to accompany me Daya?" I ask, smiling slightly.

"My lady, it would be an honour."

Why I have accepted I do not know. Perhaps I wish to escape the life I have, to flee the spoils I have built for myself. But there is one thing I cannot escape, something I will never be free of. It is in the recesses of my mind wherever I may go, it dwells in my heart wherever I may be...

My beautiful wraith...

Whom the night brings...

VI.

**_ Come What May_** copyright © 2004 by _ElfinEmpress _&_ HystericFreak_

_This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission._


	7. Prisoner

Disclaimer: The characters, objects, and places that pertain to _The Prince of Persia_ belong to Jordan Mechner and Ubisoft. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Note: This chapter was written on a whim; please excuse any mistakes made. Thank you.

VII.

You plague me.

…Eyes of the fey, dark and fathomless, enchanting whatever falls upon their line of sight…

…A warm smile that soothes all wounds...

The seconds of time must not concern you, my beautiful wraith. No…no, they do not. Always a vision of comeliness you are in my mind's eye, despite what sorrow fills my heart.

The air is cold like a mid-winter's harsh frost and the rain falls like war arrows, piercing my skin with numbing ice. I allow myself to become drenched in the storm as I place the last of the gold inside my sac. If I, myself, cannot fill my soul, then perhaps soaking in the spearing ice will do something for me.

I remember you…so tender, so heavenly, but like a dream, you are slowly drifting astray upon the dark shores of my consciousness. As I check if the sac is secure upon my back, I try to recollect, I try to grasp hold of what I have left of you, but like a cloud, the vision of you grows faint, threatening to fade away at any moment.

I look up into the grey sky, mouth agape. Spreading out my arms, I take in the aroma of decay that lingers in the air. It is faint but I sense it nonetheless. I consider letting out a scream, but I smother the thought. I think of life and its chaotic events…a pattern unfound. I wonder: Does the day ever leave you hollow, my love? Do you bleed like I do? Is your blood as red as mine?

A disease of lament and torment, you are. So many regrets lie tangible they form a wall upon my heart. Regrets and sorrow…they are all that remain of yesterday. I stopped breathing when I left your side. Yet, as far out of reach you may be, there is no escape from you. I cannot escape you...

I am your prisoner.

Ask me of anything and I would have done it…

Quietly, I climb over the railing, a soft smile plastering to my face. There is a somewhat muted splash at the end of my fall, but as I drift carelessly, I think of only one thing.

…I shall be free.

VII.

**_Come What May_** copyright © 2004 by _Elfin Empress_ & _HystericFreak_

_This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission._


End file.
